


A Kree in the House of Magnus

by Zethsaire



Category: Marvel (House of M), X-Men (Comicverse), Young Avengers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, F/M, Homophobic Language, House of M - Freeform, M/M, Past Abuse, Rape/Non-con References, References to Homophobia, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 05:44:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zethsaire/pseuds/Zethsaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy just wants a non-mutant bodyguard.  What he <i>gets</i> is Noh-varr, former body slave.  Chaos ensues.</p><p>Background Teddy/Billy, and Maximoff family, various other mutant cameos.</p><p>DISCONTINUED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of past abuse, past rape, will probably contain rape/non-con/dubious consent, violence, language, and sexual themes throughout fic. I will try to label possible triggers per chapter.
> 
> Chapter triggers: Past abuse, past rape, non-con, suicidal tendencies.
> 
> Currently self-beta'd, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Chapter 1

“We have an excellent selection in stock sir. I'm sure you'll be very pleased.”

Tomas Maximoff Magnus looked around the room at the female slaves, dressed in gauze and covered in glitter, and suppressed a shudder. “I told you I wasn't interested in a sex slave. My father insisted I need a full-time guard, and I care very little for the palace staff. They're all my grandfathers' pawns . I want a slave I can train to be my right hand.”

“But, my lord, we have only human slaves. Certainly my lord would prefer a bodyguard with a helpful mutation?”

“No, I wouldn't. If it comes to mutation, I can handle myself just fine. I want someone who isn't fazed by power suppression collars, or mutant destabilizer. I had Victor explain all this over the phone.” Tommy said angrily. This was quickly becoming a waste of his time.

“Well...I do have one other slave. But he's not at all my Lord's type.”

“I already _told_ you, I'm not interested in a sex slave!” Tommy said through gritted teeth. _Why_ couldn't anyone accept that he wanted a loyal bodyguard in stead of a bed warmer? It was all Billy's fault. Ever since Billy had come out to their family, they'd been watching Tommy like hawks, as if they expected him to take a sudden interested in men as well. Not that he hadn't indulged in a few male lovers in the past, but by no means had it been an exclusive thing! He loved bedding women. But he preferred his partners of _both_ genders (and the other, ambiguous gender types some mutants required) to be with him willingly.

He only had concubines because because his father had insisted. Hell, even Billy had female concubines. They mostly sat around and talked over tea, but he had them. That didn't mean that Tommy was going to secretly hire a lover and disguise him as a bodyguard.

“Just – let me see him, I guess.”

The slave trader nodded, and led him into a part of the house he had never been in before. The room he was brought to had locks on the front, and a slit in the door, like some of the higher security prisons his father ran. It reminded him vividly of his year in captivity, when he'd been captured by anti-mutant extremists and held for ransom. He couldn't remember much – both Billy and his mother had done their best to destroy the memories, but a cold, dark room, deprived of his powers, and a stark white lab haunted his mind. His stomach roiled unpleasantly.

“You keep him in solitary?”

“Yes. Noh-varr is an excellent body slave. But his training is...well...there was an incident with his previous master. We are in the process of rehabilitating him. For the safety of the staff and other slaves, we keep him alone.”

The slaver opened the door, and Tommy's eyes narrowed when he saw that the inside of the cell was completely black. Sensory deprivation was a prized method used to break even the most stubborn of prisoners, and apparently employed on impudent slaves. He thought he might be sick. Why did his grandfather allow this sort of thing?

The slaver pressed a button on the outside of the door, and the room was flooded with a cold light. Tommy swallowed when he saw the cement interior of the cell. There was a pallete, a bucket for waste, and nothing else. A figure was huddled in the corner of the room furthest from the door, with chains running from the thick collar on his neck and arm shackles to the wall. Nothing was visible but a head of shockingly white hair and bruised flesh. There was blood running down his arms from where the shackles were too tight. Tommy's couldn't leave him like this, this was too much like his year in captivity.

“Noh-varr, stand up.” The slaver snapped.

The man jerked to his feet, staring fixedly at the floor in their general direction. He was taller than Tommy by several inches, and he had shoulders that suggested he'd be much more muscular than Tommy if he was fed properly, but as it was, he looked downright scrawny, as if someone had decided he'd look more appealing half starved. He had incredibly long limbs, longer than human proportions but still beautiful in his own right. He had high cheekbones and curiously dark eyes. It was the hair that really got him. The rest of his body was smooth, like they'd waxed him, but his long, tangled white hair didn't belong on a human that young.

Tommy grabbed the slave master by his shoulders and snarled, “He's not human!”

“Aah...no.” The man quickly explained. “But he's not mutant either!! We've broken no laws!”

“What is he then?”

“He's um...some kind of alien. We don't know for sure. His DNA tested positive for Kree heritage, but it's an insect subspecies we've never seen before. Our Kree liaison was insulted at the idea of such a hybrid. No one claimed him – it's how he ended up in slavery in the first place.”

Tommy let go of the man, but didn't lose his scowl. He planned on having Victor hack into their data banks later and confirm the story. While aliens generally left Earth alone since the house of Magnus had come to power, sometimes they slipped through the cracks. The last thing Tommy needed was to start an intergalactic incident. Billy's own fiancee was a long lost son of the Skrull Empire, for instance. Which had been a welcome shock, but a shock nonetheless. If Noh-varr was of similar origin, his treatment here would not help create the kind of treaty that his brother's impending nuptials were bringing to the table.

Tommy stepped further into the room to examine the Kree. “Can you fight?” He asked Noh-varr. When he got no response, Tommy looked over at the slave trader.

“He _can_ speak English, can't he? Or German? Or _some_ royally sanctioned language?”

“Um...Well...” The man wrung his hands nervously. “He responds to various sexual commands. He definitely _understands_ English, but I've never heard him speak it.”

“Where did you get him from, SHIELD?” Tommy scowled.

SHIELD was a notorious human-run slave ring – the only company that willingly bought, traded and bred their own kind for mutant enjoyment. They turned out some of the best body slaves on the planet, but their training methods even made his grandfather uneasy, and they never gave their slaves more information than was necessary to do their jobs. Shield claimed this kept a slave from even contemplating ways to escape their situation.

“Um...yes, actually.”

Tommy suppressed the urge to vaporize him. “I'll take him. Clean him up and bring him to the palace. Victor will settle the account.”

“Thank you my Lord. We always appreciate your business.”

Tommy turned to go. “And Slavestrader?”

“Yes, my Lord?”

“I would stop selling non-human slaves. My brother's fiancee is half-Kree, and I doubt he will appreciate finding out the way one of his kinsman was treated. Prince Dorrek, as you know, has a very short temper.”

“Ah. Yes, my Lord. I will keep that in mind.”

Tommy stalked out, heading back to the palace and the mountain of responsibility waiting for him. Perhaps Dorrek would have time to spar with him today. He could really use the release of tension and the Skrull was always eager to prove his physical prowess to the brother of his beloved. Skrulls were really into that sort of thing, and Tommy was always happy to return the favor.

~~~

Tommy returned to his room from a long day of dealing with politicians, dodging his over affectionate mother, avoiding the latest screaming match his uncle and grandfather had gotten into, training the castle's troops, and enduring the attentions of this week's batch of suitors. Then he'd gone three rounds against Dorrek. He was tired, sweaty, and just wanted to relax in his jacuzzi before bed.

He opened the door to find his room was not empty. Noh-varr was laid out on his bed naked, hands shackled to the headboard, his collar chained to the wall. Someone had thought it would be a good idea to put nipple clamps on him, and there was a chain connecting them, and a third chain that led down to his unfortunately erect cock, and the metal cock ring that was keeping it that way. Noh-varr looked up when he entered, the haze in his dark eyes a mix of lust, fear, and more than a little hate.

“Sweet mother of fuck.” Tommy swore, stepping back outside and shutting the door as quickly as possible.

Shock soon gave way to anger. He pulled out his cellphone and dialed Victor's direct number. As soon as the call connected, Tommy snarled into the phone. “Did I not give _explicit_ instructions that Noh-varr was _not_ going to be a body slave?!”

Victor's slightly mechanical voice replied, “Yes, of course. I relayed your instructions when I arranged transport.”

“And did you see to delivery?” Tommy grit out.

“No sir. There was a security problem that required my presence. But I gave the slave master the clothes you wished him to be dressed in, and your instructions. I also arranged for food to be brought to him.”

Great. Now he was going to have to apologize to a traumatized kitchen staff. “My instructions were _not_ followed. Please come up here and...get him off my bed.”

There was a pregnant pause. “...right away my Lord.”

“I'm going to go bathe in the guard barracks. _Please_ get him cleaned up by then.”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.” Tommy hung up and stormed off towards the barracks.

The baths there weren't as nice as the one in his room, but it would be free of people tied to beds. And he was a high enough rank to kick everyone else out so he could have a private bath. He didn't though. The only ones in the bath right now were his captains, all old enough not to cause trouble, but young enough not to protest him joining them. He stripped his filthy clothes and sunk into the hot water with a groan.

“Welcome back Tommy. Somethin' wrong with your own bath?” Asked one of the captains. Lance Alvers, aka Avalanche, was a mutant who caused earthquakes. He was about ten years older than Tommy, and was a tall man with rippling muscles and long brown hair. He had a lax attitude, but he was one hell of a fighter, and he had the biggest sexual appetite of anyone Tommy had ever met.

“There was something in my bed.” He said with a scowl.

Lance laughed. “Over eager suitors again?” This drew a chuckle from one of the other captains, as he stepped out of the water and headed back to his duties.

“Something like that.” Tommy groaned, and sank lower in the water.

“Yanno, you can always send 'em my way.” Lance grinned.

“Uh-huh. And have Kitty come after me? No way.”

Kitty Pryde was Lance's feisty fiancee. Before getting engaged to her, Lance had been a huge player. He'd slept with all the female courtiers, some of whom were _not_ single, and no few of the male ones. Tommy and Billy's concubines loved him. He'd even slept with Tommy a few times. Since the engagement, Kitty had put a firm stop to his extra curricular activities, by phasing herself into whatever room he was screwing in and scaring the shit out of his bed partners. She wasn’t past haunting them afterwords either, greeting more than one former lover as a spectral apparition on the edge of their beds. It was not something Tommy wanted to experience.

“She won't do anything.” Lance assured him.

“Are you kidding? She knows where I sleep!” Tommy exclaimed. She'd even threatened a few of the more feisty competitors with phasing them through a wall and leaving them there. He might be a Prince, but that woman was terrifying.

Lance just laughed at him again. “You never know. She might be up for a threesome sometime. 'Specially if it's you.”

Tommy snorted. “Keep dreaming.”

Lance blushed and scratched the back of his head. “Can't blame a guy for trying.”

The other two captains shook their heads at his words and got up to leave. “Don't forget you have watch tonight Lance.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lance leaned back against the stone wall of the back, his arms out to either side, basically claiming that side of the bath as his own. He was obviously showing off his muscles. Kitty might have stopped anyone from actually sleeping with him, but Lance was an incurable flirt.

“Sorry Lance. If you didn't wanna be monogamous, you shouldn't have gotten engaged to Kitty.” Tommy teased.

Lance growled and splashed water at him. Tommy spluttered, and then grinned wickedly. He used his power to vibrate his hands, and sent a tidal wave of water at Lance. The older man coughed and spluttered when the water swamped him, and came up looking like an angry cat. He stood and held his hands out over the water. The floor rumbled, and the bath rocked, water swamping over Tommy's head. He swallowed a mouthful of water in surprise, and started coughing.

When Lance started laughing at his expression so hard he was actually clutching his sides, Tommy snarled, “You wanna duel, Lance?”

A polite cough sounded behind them.

Tommy turned to see Victor standing at the entrance to the bath, waiting patiently. He was wearing a black silk top and smooth pinstripe dress pants underneath. He had smooth bronze skin, jaw-length brown hair slicked back over his head, and brilliant green eyes around a brilliant yellow core. Victor was a cyborg, and was not only in charge of security for the entire castle, but also the personal servant to the royal family, though he primarily served Billy and Tommy, since Wanda, Pietro and Magnus all had their own staff.

Victor had been given to the house of Magnus when Tommy was only a child, as a tribute from Ultron. Victor had just been created, though he had the appearance of a teenager. Since then, Victor had aged slowly, so now that Tommy was twenty-one, Victor appeared to be somewhere between twenty and thirty – it was difficult to tell with his smooth face and ageless eyes. Magnus had assigned him to security because of his technopathic ability to speak to computers. He was then assigned to the twins as additional security because his ability to manipulate electricity and magnetic fields, plus his intelligence, made him an ideal bodyguard, but since he was a cyborg, he was assigned a role as a personal servant.

Under the house of M, cyborgs weren't slaves, but they weren't citizens like mutants were either. Their status wavered around a human's level, though some mutants and most aliens considered them to be sub-human at best. It was obvious that Ultron had mimicked Magnus' magnetic abilities when he'd created Victor. Because of that, Magnus disliked Victor, but at the same time, having one of his enemies make tribute in his likeness was an ego booster for the elder mutant, so Victor was never dismantled. Tommy and Billy had grown up with Victor, and they were close friends.

“I hope you weren't planning on destroying the guard bath. I really don't want to explain that to your uncle. Then I'd have to explain why you weren't in your room.” Sparks flew threateningly around his mouth.

Tommy turned bright red. “We were just fooling around.”

“Yeah, we wouldn't want to cause you trouble Victor.” Lance said honestly. He had a lot of respect for the cyborg, and was one of the only palace guards who would meet his eyes. Apparently Victor had saved Lance's life once, and since then, Lance had been a pinnacle of loyalty to the cyborg.

Victor smiled. “I brought you clean clothes, Tommy.”

“Thanks Victor.” Tommy climbed out of the bath and toweled off, vibrating the moisture off his body.

He didn't bother to go anywhere to get dressed. Both Victor and Lance had seen him naked before, though for different reasons. He took his clothes from Victor and sped into them with his powers. It felt good to use his abilities – super speed was not conducive to a political environment, even among mutants, and Tommy had been suppressing his powers all day.

“'Che. No fun when you do that.” Lance complained, and climbed out himself. He toweled off his hair and hung the towel around his neck, not bothered in the slightest by his own nudity. “Enjoy your night Thomas. I'll be watch Captain tonight, maybe I'll see you around.” He grinned and winked at Tommy.

Victor didn't bat an eye. “See you later, Lance.” Then, to Tommy, “Your room is clean my Lord. Perhaps you would like to see if it's to your liking?”

Tommy ignored Lance's lecherous laugh, and followed Victor back to his quarters. They walked quietly through the corridors, and Victor began speaking to him in a low voice, with only a slight metallic hum to his vocal projection.

“I got him cleaned up and into the clothes you'd originally asked for him in, and got him some food myself. I did shackle his arms back together and chained him to the wall.”

“I know.” He said, before Tommy could reply angrily. “But I had to. His inner programming is seriously messed up. Until I can fix him he needs to be kept chained up, or he'll hurt someone, possibly himself.”

Tommy's anger gave away to confusion. “His...inner programming? Is he a cyborg too?”

Victor hesitated. “Not...really? He's a Kree hybrid – someone put him together in a lab. He's got insect DNA and other enhancements. He's got some kind of nanotech in his system. It's similar to mine – but I can't talk to it. He's all messed up – all his systems are registering full blast, he must be in constant pain.”

Victor's explanation didn't comfort Tommy. “Can you fix him?”

“Probably. But it's going to take some time. I need to talk to Dorrek and absorb the language. Maybe then I can decipher the code. Until then...try to be as gentle with him as possible. He probably won't understand you if you speak to him in English. Possibly not even if you knew Kree. And _don't_ unchain him. He will definitely try to kill you.”

Tommy nodded. He did actually know some Kree; as the brother to someone dating a half-Kree and a future King, he was expected to at least be able to make casual conversation. But talking to the slave was going to be the least of his problems. “Uncle Pietro will skin me alive if he finds out about this.”

“Then I suggest, if he asks you about bodyguards, you tell him you're still looking.” Victor replied dryly.

“Why won't you just agree to be my bodyguard Victor? You'd be perfect.” It wasn’t the first time he'd asked, but Victor had always turned him down before.

“Get your uncle, mother and grandfather to agree, and I'll do it.” Victor said seriously. “You're going to need more than one. And Noh-varr will need someone who speaks Kree, at least until he learns English.”

“You'd do that?” Tommy couldn't believe it. Although the cyborg had been extremely protective since Tommy had been free from his year among the rebels. Everyone had.

“Of course. We're friends, aren't we? You, Billy, Teddy and Lance are the only ones who treat me like a real person.”

They had reached the door to Tommy's chambers. “I'll ask at court tomorrow. For now...I'm going to check on Noh-varr and go to bed.”

“Goodnight, Thomas.” Victor said sincerely.

“Night Victor.”

Tommy pushed his door open with a sigh. Today was just one long ordeal. He seriously needed to get laid, or get a massage, or something. Maybe he should've gone to visit his concubines before bed, they always jumped at the chance to be with Tommy since he so rarely called on their services. Too late now. God. All this moving at normal speeds today had been exhausting. Maybe he just needed sleep.

Noh-varr was no longer stretched out on the bed. The fire in the fireplace was lit, and a palette had been rolled out in front of it. Noh-varr was laying on it, with several blankets pulled up over him. Victor had cut his hair and had seen that he was put in the normal black tank top and loose gray cotton pants Tommy had left for him. There was water in a pitcher beside the bed, and the chain attached to his collar was attached to a far wall; long enough that he could access Tommy's private bathroom, most of the room, and his own palette, but not Tommy's bed, so even if he freaked out, Tommy wouldn't have to worry about being killed in his sleep. There were shackles on his arms like Victor had said, but they were looser than before, and his bleeding wrists had been cleaned and bandaged. There was some slack in the chain between the handcuffs, so Noh-varr was restrained but not completely helpless. Victor had done an excellent job, as always.

Tommy attempted to put his limited knowledge of Kree to good use. He'd been told his accent was atrocious, and he had a relatively small vocabulary, but he tried anyways. <How are you, Noh-varr?>

That got Noh-varr's attention. The Kree sad up on his elbows and looked at him. He didn't reply, and he didn't look like he really understood what Tommy had said. But that could have been his accent.

<Victor said...you...um...hurt.>

Noh-varr grimaced at that statement. There was an almost imperceptible nod. He didn't reply.

<I'm sorry.>

_That_ got a reaction. Pure hate boiled in Noh-varr's eyes. He lunged for Tommy, who dodged easily. The Kree was furious, and was spewing profanities he'd heard Dorrek use at him in slurred Kree. Tommy couldn't understand anything but mangled swear words, but when Noh-varr finally figured out he couldn’t catch Tommy, he stopped lunging for him. He tugged on his thick collar irritably and snarled some more.

<I'm sorry.> Tommy said again. <I don't speak much Kree.>

Noh-varr sighed and collapsed back on his palette, all the fight leaving him. Fury and pain still glittered in his eyes, but he forced a lazy smile across his face. <You want to fuck me?> He asked.

At least, Tommy thought that was what he said. Something about sex, anyways. <What?>

<Sex. That's...you want me....Yes?>

Tommy shook his head violently. He only picked up about half the words, but that didn't sound good at all. He couldn't explain the situation with his limited vocabulary, so he said, <No sex.>

Noh-varr looked at him like he'd lost his mind. Tommy stared back. Finally Noh-varr shrugged and lay back down, grumbling to himself things Tommy didn't understand.

Tommy shook his head in frustration. This was ridiculous. He turned off the room light and headed towards the bed. The fire had warmed the whole room, and someone had put hot pads under his blankets to heat them. He stripped down into his underclothes and collapsed into the bed. Things had to be better tomorrow, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know you've all been secretly waiting for me to post this chapter!! This one's from Noh-Varr's POV, so anything in brackets is NOT Kree, while anything in " " is Kree.
> 
> There is DUBIOUS CONSENT at the beginning of this chapter. If this is a trigger for you, you can skip that part; it's pretty obvious, and there's not too much you need to take away from it except Noh-Varr is really screwed up.
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Noh-Varr woke to pain, but that was hardly surprising. He lived and breathed pain; he had since as far back as he could remember. Usually he was also cold and stiff from his chains, but this morning he was warm. And he was comfortable, relatively speaking. He still had that damned collar around his neck, but the pallet beneath him was thick and comfortable, and the blankets covering him were soft, nothing like the worn rags he'd had before.

He sat up, hearing the rattle of the chain on his neck and the one between his hands. He growled, and looked down to see that someone had bandaged his wrists, but that there were still shackles around them. They were loose; they didn't hurt like they had before. Noh-Varr sniffed the air, smelling the scent of pine from a jar on an end table near the middle of the room, the smoke and ashy scent of the fireplace, the clear, clean smell of his own washed skin, and the earthy, male scent of his new master.

Everything was foggy. It hurt to think. He remembered being brought here, out of the dark. He also remembered his master refusing to use him. That made him feel...unsettled. He was used to the pain, and used to the anger that he felt almost constantly. It was easy to hate his masters when they used him, humiliated him and hurt him. The hatred was all that got him through the day, sometimes. The only thing that penetrated the blurred remnants of his mind.

But this master was different. He was younger; much younger than any of the others, younger than Noh-Varr was. He'd had someone dress Noh-Varr in real clothes, male clothes, not in the beads and gauze of a concubine. And they'd cut his hair, washed him, and bandaged his external wounds. His head still throbbed, but maybe this master didn't know they'd hurt his head.

His new master spoke Kree. He spoke it badly, but he'd actually spoken to Noh-Varr. All of these things made the ever-present hatred fade from his mind. It was still there, and would remain there until his collar was removed, but instead of the white hot anger he usually felt, it was just a slow burn at the back of his mind. The rest of him was...curious. And horny.

Whether he'd enjoyed it or not, he'd been used to having sex on a daily basis. It had been weeks now. Well. It had seemed like weeks, or months. It was hard to tell time in the dark, and the cold. But he wasn't there now, he was here, in this room that was warm and smelled like his master. His new, kind master. He needed to see.

Noh-Varr rose to his feet silently, and crept across the room, holding his chain so that it wouldn't rattle while he moved. The bed was on the north side of the room, and in it was his new master. Noh-Varr had thought he was another Kree at first, with that hair, but he smelled human. And no Kree would have butchered their language that badly. His master was sleeping soundly, and did not stir when Noh-Varr reached out for the legs of the bed.

The bed was just far enough away that his chain prevented him from climbing onto it. But he wanted to see his new master. He wanted to touch him, to smell his scent up close. He wanted to _know_ this was real, and not a dream, or a hallucination. He needed to touch someone who wouldn't hurt him, just for a little while.

His new master was clearly not aware of his strength, because there was nothing preventing Noh-Varr from simply picking the bed up. The chain around his neck was the same chain he'd been brought in with; it was tempered to withstand his grip. But the chain on his arms was new, and he snapped it easily. Then he picked up the bed, moving slowly so he would not startle his master. He brought the whole bed forward into the room, and then set it down again gently. Now he could climb up onto it, without running out of slack in his neck chain.

He settled onto the mattress, straddling his master's hips. He pressed his nose into his master's hair, taking a deep breathe, inhaling his master's scent. Focusing on the smell dulled the ever-present pain in his head and he moaned softly at the slight relief it gave him. He needed to touch.

Noh-Varr ran his hands over his master's skin, petting his master's face, shoulders, and chest. He knew that his master would probably not stay asleep, but that was even better. Surely when presented with evidence of Noh-Varr's physical attractiveness, his master would want to sleep with him. Or at least allow him to tend to his master's needs. He wouldn't mind, as long as his new master let him touch him, and didn't hurt him. He needed it; needed to feel and touch and smell and not hurt.

<Mmmm...> His new master stirred, mumbling to himself in one of the strange, human languages that Noh-Varr did not understand. He spoke Kree and Skrull and a dozen other sophisticated alien languages, but these human's garbled words that made no sense to him.

<Liana, is that you? I told you you've got to stop sneaking in here...> His master sighed and shifted, still not really awake.

“Let me service you, master.” Noh-Varr said huskily, rubbing his face against his master's collarbone. He wanted to have his master's scent on him; he wanted his master to smell like him, too.

His master opened his clear, green eyes. They were hazed with sleep and lust, but when they focused on Noh-Varr's face, they snapped open, filling with anger and not a little fear. <What the hell! Get off me!>

Hands shoved at him but Noh-Varr didn't budge. This was where he belonged. His head was so foggy, he couldn't think. But he knew this was where he was supposed to be. It hurt less here, with his master, in bed. He didn't want to move. “I don't understand you.”

<Fuck! Get off me! Ah, dammit.> His master looked straight at him and snapped badly mangled Kree words at him. “No! What doing you?!”

Noh-Varr took a moment to work through the badly phrased words. “Waking you up.” He replied, and pushed the covers out of the way so that he could touch more of his master's skin.

“No! Don't – what – uuuuhn...” His master trailed off when Noh-Varr ran his hand across the obvious bulge in his master's pants.

“Let me take care of you.” He said.

Then, before his master could protest, Noh-Varr pulled away the rest of the covers, his master's sleeping pants, and his underwear, and re-settled himself between his master's legs. He pressed his face against his master's cock, which was already hard, either from sleep or from Noh-Varr's attention. The smell of his master was strongest here, between his legs, and Noh-Varr breathed it in deeply. His master was clean, unlike some of his previous masters, and the smell cut through more of the pain in his head.

<This can't be happening. I'm dreaming. This has to be a dream. Oh sweet god, let this be a dream.> His master was babbling frantically, still pushing at Noh-Varr's head like he wanted him to go away. But that was stupid. This was where he was supposed to be. He wanted this. He wanted to smell, he wanted to touch.

He wanted to taste.

Noh-Varr leaned forward and took his master into his mouth. <Holy fuck what are you! Fuck!> His master writhed underneath him as he pleasured him the way he'd been trained. He had no idea what his master was saying, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.

His master lasted an impressive amount of time before succumbing to orgasm. Most of his masters, when acquainted with Noh-Varr's tongue for the first time, came after only a few minutes. His new master screamed and wailed and writhed under Noh-Varr's tongue, but he didn't come for a long time. Noh-Varr liked it better that way. He got to taste as much as he wanted, got to feel his master's skin under his hands. The hands that had been pushing him away were now buried in his hair, pulling him close.

<I'm-I-fuck,> Noh-Varr, <that feels,...uhnnnn...fuck!> His master's hips snapped up frantically into Noh-Varr's mouth, and then he was coming.

His master tasted amazing. Noh-Varr swallowed with relish, taking everything his master had to offer. When he was done, and had collapsed bonelessly on the bed, fingers slipping from Noh-Varr's hair, Noh-Varr cleaned up the few drops that had fallen from his mouth, laving them off his master's skin with his tongue.

<That was – I should – I should probably return the favor, huh? Since...god, Victor is going to kill me.>

His master pulled Noh-Varr up from his place between his legs. He met Noh-Varr's lips in an open mouthed kiss, his hand on the back of Noh-Varr's head again, his other hand between Noh-Varr's legs, stroking his erection. Noh-Varr made a hum of pleasure, kissing his master back. Most of his master's didn't kiss him, because of the nanites in his saliva. He vaguely remembered a time when he had much more control over his nanites, but during his captivity, they mostly just made his masters hallucinate. His new master didn't seem to be hallucinating though, he seemed to be fully aware and enjoying himself, which only made it better.

Noh-Varr rubbed against his master's leg, his cock pulsing. He breathed in the scent of his master and tasted him in his mouth, his tongue in his master's mouth, and his master's tongue in his. It felt so good, his head didn't hurt at all. He thought he might actually orgasm. It'd been so long...

<Tommy! Are you up yet? Victor asked me to come by and translate for the Kree for you – what the hell? Get off him!>

The door burst open and the smell of Skrull filled his nostrils. A giant green hand came down on his shoulder and he was ripped away from his new master with a yelp. His master started swearing and sounded angry. Noh-Varr wanted to rip the Skrull's limbs off. He was up and off the floor in seconds, and threw himself between the hulking green shape and his master.

“Get away from him! He's mine!” Noh-Varr snarled.

“What?” The Skrull replied in mildly accented Kree. “What do you mean, yours?”

“Mine.” Noh-Varr said again. What part of that did this idiot Skrull not understand?

<What the hell are you two talking about? Get out! I need to get dressed.> His master snapped.

<If you hadn't been fucking my blood brother, you wouldn’t need to get dressed!> The Skrull snarled back.

<It was his idea!> His master yelled back.

“Is that true?” The Skrull asked him. “He didn't force you?”

“Did it _look_ like he was forcing me?” Noh-Varr asked. His head was starting to throb again. This stupid Skrull was ruining everything. Not that that surprised him at all.

“Well. Ah.” The Skrull seemed embarrassed, and scrubbed a hand through his strange, blonde hair. Noh-Varr had never seen a Skrull that had chosen to wear blonde hair, before.

<Christ, this is giving me a headache. I either need to learn Kree or he needs to learn English or German. What the _hell_ are you saying? > His master sounded irritable and cranky, which was not at all how he should sound after Noh-Varr's tongue had been on him.

<Your Kree, um...>

<His name is> Noh-Varr. <And he's not my anything.> His master said, coming to stand behind Noh-Varr.

Noh-Varr stepped back and nuzzled into his master's side. His master's hand came up reflexively, scratching the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Noh-Varr turned and breathed in his master's soothing scent, while baring his teeth and growling softly at the Skrull.

“You're happy with <Tommy> as your master?” The Skrull asked dubiously.

“Is that his name?” No one had bothered to tell him who had bought him. He'd gone through at least a dozen masters, and more than half of them had just been, 'Master.' None of them had ever made the attempt to communicate with him, unless it involved telling him to bend over the nearest piece of furniture and 'make himself useful.'

“Yes. His name is <Thomas Maximoff,> but he goes by <Tommy.>”

“Tom-my?” Noh-Varr repeated. The word sounded wrong on his tongue.

<Just Tommy.> Tommy told him.

“Tommy.” He said again. It still sounded strange.

<Yes. I mean - > “Yes.” Tommy's pronunciation of the word was even more terrible than it had been the first time.

When Noh-Varr learned how to communicate with these humans, the first thing he was going to do was teach them to speak properly. And then he was going to hunt down the one who had imprisoned him and kill him. Noh-Varr had thought of several creative ways to do it; his current favorite involved slowly skinning the human alive. And then there were his 'trainers,' they needed to die too. Maybe he'd string them up by their ankles and make a small cut in one of their veins, and watch them bleed out. And his masters, oh, he'd thought of some _special_ treatments for his previous masters.

<Why does he have the creepy smile on his face?> Tommy asked the Skrull.

<I have no idea.> The Skrull replied. <Look. Victor is going to be here any minute to work on his nanites, and you have court in less than an hour. Shouldn't you go get ready? I'm sure I can handle him.>

<Just make sure 'handling' doesn't mean 'hurting' Dorrek. He's had enough bad treatment for a lifetime.> Tommy said. He ran a soothing hand down Noh-Varr's back, and said, “I now going. With stay Dorrek.”

That must be the Skrull's name. Noh-Varr wondered if he was related to the Empress, or if a particularly loyal Skrull family had named their child after the late Emperor. “Your Kree is atrocious.” He told Tommy.

Dorrek laughed at him.

<What? What did he say?! Dammit, I'm going to have a telepath teach me Kree today, I can't keep this up.>

<He said you don't talk properly.> Dorrek sniggered.

Tommy stalked off angrily to his bathroom, and Noh-Varr heard the sound of the shower running. That left him alone, with the Skrull. Dorrek. Noh-Varr wrinkled his nose and gave him a sneer.

“I'm not servicing you.” Noh-Varr said coldly. Tommy would have to be a great deal more cruel than he had been in order to get Noh-Varr to be anyone else's whore, especially a Skrull's.

“What? No. No, I have a mate.” Dorrek said, flustered. “Besides, Tommy wouldn't want to do that. Why do you think he would do that?”

“It's happened before.”

Dorrek's eyes grew dark and murderous. “Who? Who dared to do that to one of my kinsmen? I'll raze their homes to the ground. I'll rend them limb from limb!”

“ _Your_ kinsman?” Noh-Varr sneered.

Dorrek looked hurt. “I'm half Kree. I take my bloodline very seriously.”

“You were _obviously_ raised by Skrulls. That, or this dimensions Kree are even more barbaric than I'd heard. I am perfectly capable of exacting my own revenge. Unless you, too, think I am a worthless _**raravat**_ , incapable of even defending my own honor.” Noh-Varr spat. The second he got his collar off – and he would get his collar off – his enemies would learn just what a _real_ Kree soldier was capable of.

“No, I -”

Dorrek was saved from trying to explain by the door opening and yet another stranger entering the room. Noh-Varr backed up against the wall instinctively. This had happened before. A kind master – such a _kind_ , loving master. Until he'd invited all his friends over to meet his newest acquisition and they had -

He would not let his terror show. Anger was better, anger was safe.

The newcomer smelled like blood and metal. He was just a little too still, not moving the way a fully fleshed creature would. There was electricity crackling in his eyes and on his tongue, as he talked to Dorrek quietly in words Noh-Varr did not understand. Cyborg.

Noh-Varr shuddered. Cyborg's were treated terribly in all the places Noh-Varr had been kept. When they were allowed to have him – when they – they were always the worst, taking out their own pain and humiliation on the only thing in the house with less status than them.

The Skrull was talking to him again.

“This is <Victor.> He's the one who helped you yesterday, remember?”

Yesterday was a haze of pain, anger, and terror. He remembered the cyborg's eyes, being stripped down. Being strapped to a bed. But. He didn't actually remember any pain. What had happened yesterday?

“He says something is wrong with the nanites in your blood. He wants to help you.”

The cyborg reached for his face and Noh-Varr flinched and said, “Don't _touch_ me!”

Dorrek was startled by his action and his words. “He's not going to hurt you.” The green creature said reasonably. He probably thought his tone was soothing.

Victor's hand reached for him again, and he shied away, going as far as he could before his chain reached its limit. He tugged on it frantically, before remembering that he was supposed to be showing anger, not fear.

“Don't _touch_ me!”

<I thought you said he was calm this morning.> Victor said, actually taking a step back from him. Noh-Varr's eyes narrowed. What did they think they were doing?

<He was! Well, he was angry with me at first, but he wasn't like this!>

<Maybe it's because Tommy isn't here?> Victor mused.

<He did respond well to Tommy.> Dorrek blushed. <Ah. He seemed very protective of him, I mean.>

< _Please_ tell me Tommy didn't sleep with him. >

<Well. Ah.>

Sparks flew from Victor's mouth, and he started shouting at Dorrek. <That fucking _idiot!_ I told him to leave Noh-Varr alone. We don't know what's been done to him. Now he's going to think he's here for sex! No wonder he won't let me touch him. >

<No. I don't think - >

Noh-Varr had no idea what they were screaming about, and he didn't care. He had to get out of here. His head throbbed; his whole body ached, and the fear that he couldn't keep down was like acid in his veins. It took a few tries and bleeding fingernails, but he managed to break his arm shackles off, no longer dragging around a manacle and a length of chain on each arm.

They weren't listening to him, they were too busy screaming at each other. Noh-Varr slid along the wall until he reached the place when his chain was fastened to the wall. The wall fastening was old – it hadn't come with Noh-Varr, that meant -

He dug his fingers into the wall, scrabbling at the cement of the wall attachment. This metal was stronger than his manacles had been, but it was not as strong as his neck chain. It couldn't hold him. He ripped it out of the wall desperately, and it came off the wall and into his hand.

That got their attention. Noh-Varr only had seconds to act. He charged, faster than them, and shoved Victor as hard as he could, hurling the cyborg into a wall, disorienting him. He extended his nails as he passed the Skrull, and embedded all five in his chest. The resulting explosion would buy him time. Then he was out the door and into the hall.

No guards. Apparently Tommy felt safe with just his two minions. He had no idea which way was out. He was inside somewhere, either underground or in a massive enough building that the smell of the outside didn't get in. He should have gone out the window, but he hadn't been thinking clearly. Couldn't think, his head hurt too much. Don't think. Just run.

He followed the scent of food, because the kitchens would have to have access to the outside, and hopefully not as guarded as, say, the front entrance. He vaguely registered shouts and screams, but everything bled from his consciousness. There is no runner. Running is accomplished, that is all.

No one gets in his way, or if they do, he doesn't register them. He just puts one foot in front of the other and shuts out everything else, following the smell of food.

A hand, barring his way. He breaks it, and the arm it's attached to, and keeps going. The food smell is strong here. He bursts out into a room, and is assaulted with noise – sound and smell and bright lights. And his head, there is someone in his head.

_'Who are you? What is wrong with your mind? Aah!'_

More screaming and his head is on fire. “Leave me _**alone**_!” And if he could push them all away he would. Why can't they just leave him alone? He just wants to get out, he wants to get _out!_ Just...see the sky again.

More hands, and voices jabbering things he doesn't understand. “Don't touch me!” He throws off one set of hands, swings his chain at the skull of another, lashes out with his nails and teeth and feet. “Get _off_ me!”

< _Iwantyouto_ _ **STOP! > **_

A voice, crackling power, and he can't move. He wants to move, to run, to attack, to do _something_. But he can't. “Leave me alone.” He ignores the whimper in his voice. “Don't hurt me.”

“I'm not going to hurt you.” A voice he can understand. And he would jerk back if he could because this is _not_ his master, but he has Tommy's _face_. His eyes spark with power, with electricity, but he is no cyborg – this one is all flesh and blood. He smells strongly of the Skrull, Dorrek.

“Tommy?” He says, because this one looks _just like him_ , even if he knows it is not him.

“No. My name is William. Why are you disturbing the peace in my dining hall? You are lucky my grandfather is not here. He would have you flogged, at the very least.”

“Don't hurt me.” He says again. “I want to see the sky.”

“Where did you _come_ from?” William murmured, mostly to himself. “It's alright.”

The not-Tommy touched him, and he flinched. He couldn't get away but his whole body jerked slightly. This one smelled wrong.

“Tommy is my master.” He said, though it ate him to say the words out loud.

“My brother, making a mess for me to clean up. Why am I not surprised? Come on, lets go somewhere with less terrified women, alright?”

William twitched his fingers, and Noh-Varr's muscles moved on their own. He followed William out of the dining room, through a kitchen, and out into a kitchen garden. Noh-Varr gasped, looking up at the first glimpse of sky he'd seen since his imprisonment. His collar and chain weighed heavily on him, but he could _breathe_ out here. He could see the _sun_. And part of that made his heart break all over again. This wasn't Hala.His ship was dead, his crew-mates were dead. His people were lost – this dimension's Hala and Kree were not his people. Even if he got free he would never have a home. A people, a family.

“What _did_ my brother do to you?” William asked. He reached a hand up and wiped a trailing tear off Noh-Varr's face.

Noh-Varr face burned with shame. Not just for the tears, but because he had openly shown weakness in front of an enemy. That rankled and ate at his insides more than the collar around his neck. He had no control over his imprisonment, but he could, and should, be able to control his emotions in front of his captors.

<Billy! There you are!> The smell more than anything alerted him to Dorrek's presence.

Noh-Varr's veins filled with fear, but he still couldn't move beyond the faintest of twitches. He watched as the Skrull's form warped and shifted to that of a large, blonde human, who swept William up in a hug, kissing his lips hungrily. Yes, William was definitely the Skrull's mate.

<You found him.> Dorrek said, looking straight at Noh-Varr.

“Yes, I did. And start speaking Kree, please. He's terrified enough without being able to understand what we're saying.”

“Sorry.” Dorrek apologized to his mate, not to Noh-Varr.

<You found him?>

Noh-Varr managed to jump back a few inches before the spell latched onto him again.

William looked annoyed and angry. “What the hell did you guys do to him?”

<Are you speaking Kree?>

“Yes, I'm speaking Kree. I'm sure it's only polite. You should have been upgraded with Kree and Skrull when I was engaged to Teddy.”

<No, I wasn't. I'm sorry.>

“Well, that's easy enough.” William said confidently. < _IwantVictortospeakKree. IwantVictortospeakKree. IwantVictortospeakKree. IwantVictortospeakKree. >_

The cyborg's whole body lit up with a wash of blue magic, and sparks flew off his skin. At the same time, Noh-Varr felt something take ahold of him, and part of himself being transferred. When the glow faded, Victor shook himself and said,

“Well, that was strange.” His Kree was perfect, no trace of accent, and he spoke Noh-Varr's dialect. William looked smug.

“What did you do?” Noh-Varr asked, not understanding what had just happened.

“I gave him your language.”

“But how?” Without a brainstorm from Plex, Noh-Varr did not understand how knowledge could be transferred instantly from one being to another.

<Magic.> William frowned. “Victor, you have his full language. What's the word for <magic>?”

<Magic.> Victor said instantly. “There doesn't appear to be a translation.”

They looked to Teddy. “Um...the closest in Skrull is 'chaos-physics-reality-alteration.' Skrulls don't believe in <magic.>”

“That's ridiculous.” William snorted. “What the hell did you tell them my power was then?”

“Conqueror of reality.” Dorrek said.

This was all very quaint. “Can I leave now?” Noh-Varr asked.

“We're not going to hurt you Noh-Varr. Your head hurts, right?”

“It's inconsequential.” He snapped. He'd shown them far too much weakness as it was.

“Is that Kree for 'I'm too stubborn and prideful to admit I'm in pain to a potential enemy'?” Victor inquired.

“Yes.” William and Dorrek said at the same time.

“I know you have an internal OS, that you have nanites in your blood, and that SHIELD did something to them. I can fix you.” Victor insisted.

“Don't touch me.” Noh-Varr snarled.

“Victor.” William said suddenly. “How would they have re-written Noh-Varr's internal OS?”

Noh-Varr shuddered. William was entirely too perceptive. He strained against the binding spell again, but he didn't get very far. He didn't want to be here for this. He didn't want to hear them discussing what had happened to him. He especially didn't want to be here if they were right.

“Well,” The cyborg postulated, “They could have installed something in his head, or injected a counter nanite -”

“Or had a cyborg re-write it technopathically?” William asked.

“Oh.” Victor said, as if he hadn't thought of that. Noh-Varr wished William hadn't, either.

Noh-Varr just snarled at them.

“Magneto isn't the only one my father sent tribute to.” Victor said uneasily. “My brother Vision was sent to SHIELD. Did you...meet him, Noh-Varr?”

 _“This is Vision. He's_ so _very useful, especially with toys like you. Let's just say that your little submicrotech problem won't be a problem any longer, shall we? Vision, disable his nanites.”_

_Dead eyes stared dispassionately at him. If the android had had a soul, it had been broken long ago. “Your wish is my command.”_

“There's nothing to meet.” Noh-Varr said. “They broke him a long time before they caught me.”

Victor just looked sad. “Let me fix the pain my brother caused you.”

“Fine.” It wasn't as if he really had a choice.

“Sit down over here.” Victor indicated a stone bench.

William walked him over to the bench, and then loosened the grip he had on him. Noh-Varr still couldn't run away, but he could move his head and hands now.

Victor sat beside him. “The best way to fix what was done to you will be to introduce my submicrotech to yours.” He explained.

_Hands holding him down; thick, viscous liquid spilling into his mouth, being forced to swallow -_

Noh-Varr shuddered.

“I'm just going to swab my mouth.” Victor said, holding up a cotton swab, “And then put it on your tongue. Is that okay?”

“I can...I can do that.”

Victor stuck the swab in his mouth, just like he said he would. Then he held it out and Noh-Varr gingerly opened his mouth. The cotton swab was placed on his tongue and Noh-Varr started. He could _feel_ Victor's nanites swarming over his tongue. He spat the swab out and curled his tongue around in his mouth, trying to get them _off_. That just helped them absorb themselves into the lining of his mouth, where they would have easy access to his blood stream.

“That feels -” His body gave an involuntary spasm.

Victor was staring at him blankly, probably extending his entire consciousness into the nanites in Noh-Varr's body.

“I don't-” His body convulsed again.

The normal pain in his head magnified. Noh-Varr bit back a scream - he would _not_ scream in front of them. He'd sworn years ago never to give his masters, or anyone else, the satisfaction.

“This doesn't -”

His body started seizing, muscles spasming, a screaming pain in his skull. He saw bright flashes of lights in front of his eyes, and he tasted blood in his mouth. Dimly he registered panicked shouts as the seizure went on and on. Then everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Explicit language, violence, references to rape/non-con/abuse of Noh-Varr in various manners.

The first thing that Noh-Varr registered when he regained consciousness was his master. His master's scent was all around him, calming him on a subconscious level. He'd only been with Tommy for a day, and already he'd come to associate safety with the man's smell. He had a good smell; not like most of the humans and mutants that Noh-Varr had been bound to in the past. Tommy's smell just _resonated_ with him – he smelled like grass, and sunshine, and _home_. Not Hala-that-was, but just...home.

The next thing Noh-Varr realized was that people were arguing, loudly; voices muffled – they were in the next room. He recognized Tommy's voice from the tone, but the words were unfamiliar to him. He understood them, even though he'd never really _heard_ them before. Not properly, anyway. Somehow, the translation function of his internal OS was operating again, because they were not speaking Kree.

“I'm gone for less than an hour, and you almost kill my bodyguard! Will said he had a seizure for almost fifteen minutes!”

“I am sorry.” The mechanical voice could only be Victor. Noh-Varr shuddered at his voice, and wondered if any of the cyborg's nanites were still inside of him. He seriously hoped not.

“I did not expect his nanites to be as corrupted as they were. I fear I may have damaged him while I tried to repair him. After I re-wrote his nanites, I put him into a deep, healing sleep. You can go and sit with him, if you like.”

“Fine. And if he is permanently damaged in any way...” Tommy trailed off, as if he wasn't sure how to proceed with the threat.

The door opened, and Tommy stepped through. He was surprisingly quiet, as if he was afraid loud noises would disturb Noh-Varr. The Kree turned slightly so he could get a better look at him, and was startled by the amount of worry on his master's face. It was more worry than could just be justified by a master worried about damaged property. Perhaps...perhaps Tommy also felt the connection between them.

“You're awake.”

“Master,” Noh-Varr acknowledged. German was coming out of his mouth automatically. It was strange.

“Please don't call me that. I really did want a bodyguard, not a body servant.”

“I will try. Does that mean you did not enjoy the way I woke you?”

Tommy blushed. “Um. It wasn't unpleasant but...I really don't expect you to do that.”

“I liked it. You taste good.”

“Oh. Uh...thank you?” Tommy kept blushing, and sat down on the bed beside him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. My head doesn't hurt any more.” Noh-Varr shifted around in the bed until his head was in Tommy's lap. He closed his eyes and breathed in Tommy's smell, giving a contented sigh. Tommy's hands found their way into his hair a moment later.

“Good. I was worried about you.”

Thomas petted his head for a few minutes, not speaking, just sitting with him in silence. Tommy didn't sit still; a part of him was always moving – either his fingers were tapping on his leg, or his feet were wiggling, tapping against the bed and floor, his head nodding and twitching, or his entire body vibrating. It should have been strange, but Noh-Varr liked it. Tommy was so _alive_ , so vibrant. It made Noh-Varr feel alive, too.

“If you're really going to be my bodyguard, you're going to have to learn a lot,” Tommy said, after some time had passed. “There's a lot of rules here that you'll have to follow, and a lot of other rules that the courtiers will try to apply to you, that you don't have to follow. Your first and only task will be to keep me safe. You're not going to be my servant or my body slave; you don't need to entertain me. You will answer only to me, or Magnus. Though I do expect you to respect my brother and my mother and uncle. Am I going too fast for you?”

“I...think I understand. I will be allowed to use violence?” Noh-Varr asked. He'd been trained as a soldier, originally, a very, very long time ago. Most of his violent tendencies had since been beaten out of him, reactions dulled by fear, training buried when he had to employ other strategies to keep himself alive.

“Only at certain times; if we're training, or if I'm in danger, but yeah. If anyone tries to hurt me, you can do whatever you need to in order to make them stop.”

“I'll eviscerate anyone who touches you.”

Tommy's smile was full of teeth. “That's what I want to hear.”

Noh-Varr practically beamed. He'd pleased Tommy, just by being himself. “When do we start?”

“First we've got to get you to a tailor; you need armor and something to wear that doesn't scream bed slave. Then your training starts. I hope to present you to my grandfather as soon as possible. If you've already had training...maybe we could do that next week some time? I don't want to present you if you're not ready, and obviously you would continue to train, but if I don't present someone soon, I'll get stuck with one of my grandfather's guards. I'd rather have you.”

“I'll do whatever you need. I was once very skilled in suppression techniques. I was made to be a soldier.”

Tommy looked puzzled. “Made?”

“Yes. I was bred by the Supreme Intelligence. I am Kree, gene perfected with insect DNA; a...'super soldier,' I suppose you would say.”

“Our Kree ambassador said he had no idea where you were from. That's how they legalized your enslavement.”

“I'm...not from around here,” Noh-Varr said. He felt a very strong connection with Tommy, but some things hurt too much to talk about.

That made Tommy frown. “Without any proof of where you came from, there's no way to reverse your slave status. You'll be my personal slave guard, but you'll still be a slave. I can't free you.”

That was unfortunate, but Noh-Varr hadn't really expected it. “You treat me very well, Tommy. You are the best master I have ever had.”

Tommy's smile was sad. “Yes, well, I wish I didn't have to be your master at all.”

Noh-Varr didn't like Tommy to be sad. He pushed himself up on one elbow, and reached for Tommy's neck, pulling him down for a kiss. With his nanites now back under his control, he allowed a very small amount of hallucinogen into his saliva, just enough to help his master relax. Tommy moaned softly under his touch, and opened his mouth to Noh-Varr.

When they paused for breath, Noh-Varr said, “Let me please you.”

“Oh...god yes.”

When they emerged from the bedroom some time later, Victor was the only one waiting for them. He had an amused look on his face, that practically screamed, ' _I know what you've been doing_.' But all he said was, “Good morning, Thomas, Noh-Varr. I trust you slept well?”

Thomas blushed brilliantly. “Yes, thank you, Victor. Noh-Varr, if it's alright, Victor will take you to the tailor now. I need to wash, and I'll meet you afterwords for breakfast.”

Noh-Varr eyed the cyborg warily. He still didn't like him, but he was no longer bound by chains or magic, so he felt more in control of the situation. “If I must.”

“I'll see you in less than an hour,” Thomas promised, and placed a kiss to his lips, before blurring away, presumably to get clean.

“I doubt the tailor will want to work around that thick collar. Magnus is the only one who can free you, but...” Victor raised his hands, blue sparks shooting out. Noh-Varr's thick collar compressed, and flattened out so that it could lay against his collarbones. “There. That's better, isn't it?”

Noh-Varr's hands flew to his neck in shock. The collar was still the same weight as it had been before, but where it had always been around his neck, making it ache and leaving deep bruises on his skin. For the first time in years, he could actually touch his neck without the thick metal in the way.

“Victor...” He stared at the cyborg, his eyes shining with gratitude. “I...don't know what to say.”

“It was my pleasure. Tommy does not want anyone to be a slave. If it is in my power to make you, and by extension him, happier, than I will. Shall we?” Victor said, opening the door and heading across the hall.

Noh-Varr followed him out of the room and across the palace, until they reached the tailor's suites. The room was large and airy, with racks full of different bolts of cloth, mannequins displaying different designs. A woman dressed in servants clothes with long blonde hair was working at a sewing machine, stitching details into a rich batiq print skirt.

“Victor! It's good to see you. Who is your companion?”

“This is Noh-Varr. He is going to be Prince Thomas' bodyguard. Noh-Varr, this is Cassie, the tailor. Her husband Nate is our armorer, and we'll be going to see him next.”

Cassie stood and held out her hand to him. “Nice to meet you, Noh-Varr.”

“It is good to meet you,” he replied stiffly, taking her hand as she expected and shaking it. He disliked touching anyone; he'd had enough bad experiences to sour his expectations of physical touch.

“You're Kree, aren't you? Do you have any allergies to fabrics or anything I need to know about?”

“Nylon and spandex make my skin itch,” he admitted. “And the dye used in purple clothing and thread makes my hair fall out.” Not that had stopped any of his masters in the past. Some of them had put him in purple spandex clothes just to see him writhe in discomfort.

“Thomas' colors are green and white, so that shouldn't be a problem. Your armor will be a combination of leather and Kevlar. You'll have Kevlar lining most of your guard uniforms, though you'll have a few outfits without it for when you're not on duty, and to sleep in, though the Kevlar is thin enough that you can sleep in it if you need to. I'm going to take some measurements, and then send you to Nate for more fittings. Your clothes should be finished in a few days.”

Noh-Varr stood still while she measured him, holding back his flinches when she reached to measure his inseam. She smiled at him and patted his leg, probably in a gesture of comfort, but it just made Noh-Varr feel more awkward. He was relieved when she finally finished measuring him, and they headed to the armory.

The back door of the tailor's shop led out into a small courtyard that connected the armory and tailor's shop, with another door that probably led to their quarters. Noh-Varr took a deep breath of fresh air, and looked up at the sun, his whole being aching to just be outdoors for the purpose of being outside, instead of getting from one place to another.

“Much of your training will take place on the practice courts, which are outside,” Victor said suddenly.

“Will it? That is good to know,” he said, keeping his smirk to himself.

There was a small blonde child, about four years old, playing in the courtyard. She was humming, and building a sand castle. The armory door was open, and a muscular black-haired man was watching her.

“Hello, Mira,” Victor said to the child. “What are you doing today?”

“Vicci!! I'm makin' a castle! See?” She waved her tiny hands towards the shapeless pile of mud and sand in front of her.

“It's very nice. Is your dad here?”

Mira jumped up, excited. “Uh huh! Daddy, daddy! People are here to seeeeee you!”

The man reached down, and Mira jumped up into his arms. He spun her around until she screamed with glee, before holding her close to his chest in an affectionate hug. Noh-Varr was ashamed to feel so incredibly jealous of a four year old.

“Victor! You brought me a Kree! You know I've always wanted to make armor for one.” He flashed them both a brilliant smile.

“I am pleased to be in your presence,” the armorer said in flawless Kree, setting his daughter down and offering Noh-Varr a graceful bow.

Noh-Varr returned his grin, and replied, “It is refreshing to finally meet a civilized person. I am Noh-Varr. I will be guarding Prince Thomas.”

“Good. Tommy has needed someone to keep him safe. His security is terrible.” Nate smirked at Victor.

“I resent that.” Victor said, but he was smiling.

“So tell me,” Nate said, as he welcomed Noh-Varr into his shop and began pulling out various fabrics and armor samples. “Do you practice _leal-lat_?”

“It has been some time since I was free to pursue my martial art, but I plan to take it up again.” He said smoothly. He had no idea if Nate knew his previous circumstances, but if he didn't, Noh-Varr didn't plan to get it away.

“Excellent. Cassandra probably told you that your armor would be made of Kevlar, but actually it will be from Kree bio-fabric. I've been waiting for a chance to use it.”

“You have bio-fabric?” Noh-Varr was impressed. Kree didn't trade with anyone they didn't consider their intellectual equal. And Nate wasn't even a mutant – he was human.

“I do. If you would undress, please.” His eyes twinkled, and be brought over a spool of transparent, thin fabric.

Noh-Varr glanced warily at Victor, before sliding out of his clothes. Neither Victor or Nate said anything about his extensive scarring, for which Noh-Varr was grateful. Scars earned in battle brought honor, but his scars brought only shame.

Once Noh-Varr was undressed, Nate held the bio-fabric up to Noh-Varr's skin.

The fabric stretched up and out, sliding across his skin, down his arms and legs, and across his torso. As it moved, it shifted and changed color and texture, the pants growing thicker, growing tough and sturdy around his feet, forming into combat boots. His parts were form fitting, in black, with green stripes running down the side of his legs. The top grew into a shirt, in white, skintight fabric with green trim and a three-quarter sleeve.

Nate nodded in satisfaction when the outfit was completed. Noh-Varr was impressed. It took a lot of work to communicate with the nanotech in bio-fabric, and Nate had created the outfit effortlessly.

“How do you like it?”

“It is excellent. You are a skilled smith.”

Nate's smile was dazzling. “I've got something else that might please you. Tommy was given these by the Kree ambassador.” He disappeared into the back of his shop, and reappeared with a small box, which he held out to Noh-Varr. “These are better than any weapons I can craft for you. They will help you keep Tommy safe.”

Noh-Varr opened the box, and barely contained an exclamation of shock. Inside the box were two golden gauntlets; the advanced bio weapons of the Kree Empire. They would bind to a wearer, and then they would be useless to anyone else. He reached out, and touched the smooth metal.

It slid up his arms, warm and comforting, a sense of _rightness_ filling him. These were Kree weapons; they were his and no one elses. They liked him, and his armor, and they settled into place, covering his knuckles to up past his sleeves, a deep ruby stone set into each of them. He flexed his hands experimentally, feeling the power in these. They were literally the best gifts he had ever received in his life.

“I am at your service.” He said in formal Kree,and bowed so low his head touched the ground.

“Please, please. It is my pleasure to serve Thomas, and all who serve him. You are Kree. It is only fitting that I supply you with the best equipment I have to offer.

“Your work is excellent, s always.” Victor said. “we have to go to lunch now – but would you have any free time this evening? I have several things I would like to discuss with you.”

“I am always free to discuss whatever you need.” Nate said with a sly smirk. “I'll have your clothes delivered to Thomas' suite. Have a good day.”

Victor led the way out, presumably to wherever they were having lunch.

“You have a very nice mate.” Noh-Varr said conversationally.

Victor stumbled, hand flying out to catch the wall, head whipping up to stare at Noh-Varr. “Wha – what are you talking about?”

“I'm sorry, is it not publicly known? You were both giving off a plethora of pheromones. I didn't know cyborgs _could_ create pheromones. It was very informative.”

“He – I – me - “Victor blushed a deep scarlet. “he's not cheating on Cassie with me. She knows.”

“I did not mean to imply that. It was a complement.”

“Oh. Um. Thank you. But please don't tell anyone. Most people are not as understanding as you.” Victor explained.

“I do not understand a species that allows the purchasing of pleasure slaves and does not understand a man having two mates.”

“Yes, well, humans are like that.” Victor said, with a small tinge of bitterness in his voice.

Noh-Varr didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't.

Victor recovered after a moment and continued talking as if they'd never had the awkward interchange. “This is a very informal lunch. It will just be Thomas, Billy and Dorrek, and Thomas' current bodyguard, Lance Alvers, who is also the Captain of the Guard. Lady Bishop is also here on a state visit; you'll meet her and her consort Eli. I think you'll like her. She's pure blood human, but she wields at least as much political and economic power as Thomas.”

Noh-Varr's smile was full of teeth . He liked the thought of a strong human female who could hold her own amongst all the mutant men. He was definitely looking forward to meeting her.

He followed Victor into the same small dining hall he'd broken into the day before, and it was amazing how much different he felt after just twenty-four hours.

Everyone looked up when they walked in, and William and Dorrek's eyebrows went up, while Tommy looked completely flabbergasted. There was a space between Tommy and a pretty black haired human girl in a purple dress. Sitting across from her was a scowling black man in human military gear, although he might have been scowling because he was sitting next to Dorrek, who's eating habits were...voracious.

“Go sit at Tommy's right hand.” Victor told him.

Noh-Varr crossed the room, resisting the urge to shuffle with his head down, and instead embrace the self-reliance the inner pride that was essential to any Kree. He slid into the seat next to Tommy, who was still staring at him, thought now instead of shock, his eyes were full of lust.

“Where did you get those clothes?” Tommy breathed in his ear.

“Your blacksmith was kind enough to provide me with proper Kree armor and weapons. He is an exceptional human.”

“He certainly is.” Tommy murmured, quite obviously undressing Noh-Varr with his eyes.

“Nathaniel Richards is one of the most distinguished humans alive. Without him, I would have never been able to conceive. I'll steal him away from you some day, I swear.” The woman said fervently.

“you can't steal him,” Tommy protested, “Nate works here because he wants to.”

“I think he wants to keep an eye on you.” She shot back. Then she turned to Noh-Varr and said, “Hello. I'm Kate Bishop, and this is my consort, Eli Bradly.” She motioned to the man, who was still scowling.

“Noh-Varr.”

“Are you here as part of the Kree delegation?”

“No.” He said, “I am Thomas' personal bodyguard.”

“Really?” She said, sounding extremely interested now. “The Kree are that invested in Thomas' safety?”

“He's a slave.” Eli spat angrily across the table, his eyes fixed on Noh-Varr's collar. “Thomas _bought_ him.”

Kate looked shocked, which quickly melted into anger. “Thomas how could you! Your brother-in-law is half Kree!”

“First of all,” Noh-Varr said flatly, “My citizenship status is none of your damn business. And second of all, Thomas is my _hala,_ and I would do anything for him.”

Dorrek choked on his food.

Surprisingly, Eli smiled in response to Noh-Varr's outburst. “Good.” He said. “About damn time someone grew a spine around here. I was almost embarrassed to be seen with any of you.” And then he went back to his food, and didn't say anything more.

Noh-Varr followed his example, and dug into his own food – a kind of mild red curry served over rice. It took a few moments but conversationally finally picked up around them.

After they were done eating and servants took their dishes away, Kate said some polite words, and she and Eli took their leave. Will looked at Noh-Varr and flushed, but Dorrek came over and slapped him on the back, wishing him a hearty and sincere congratulations. Then they also left.

Thomas didn't comment on his announcement. He gestured to a tall, shaggy haired mutant and said, “This is Lance Alvers, my Captain of the Guard. He will be taking over your training, starting today.”

Then he leaned so close that only Noh-Varr could hear and whispered, “I will be waiting for you when you are done training. You look – ravishing.” Tommy's tone left no doubt about who would be doing the ravishing, and Noh-varr suppressed a shiver of pleasure. Then Tommy was gone, with Victor at his heels, and he was alone with Alvers.

Noh-Varr did not offer his hand. Alvers had a hard bitten look about him that reminded him for too much of some of his human masters. He'd actually served on Alders, before. It had been...unpleasant.

Alvers didn't look any happier to see him. “Nice cover with the human ambassador. But I know you're a slave. You killed my brother.”

He remembered that. They'd beaten him within an inch of his life for that, before someone realized they could sell him and get a large claim back from SHIELD for breaking his training.

“I don't regret it.” He said evenly, wondering if he would have to kill this man as well. It was a pity – Tommy seemed to like him.

“You shouldn't. My brother was a bastard. He'd been abusing my mother and my sister. I would have killed him too, if I'd found out before he was already dead.”

Noh-Varr relaxed ever so slightly.

“So I know you can take care of yourself in a bad situation. But can you keep someone else alive during an attack? That is what I am going to teach you. And you need to rebuild your muscles too. We'll work on that. Follow me.”

That at least, was true. He'd lost a lot of muscle definition since he'd been put in solitary. A few days of good food couldn't really replace that. Noh-Varr squared his shoulders, and followed the taller mutant out of the castle. He'd follow Alver's instructions, get back into shape, and learn how to protect Tommy at all times. Then nothing would keep them apart.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of rape/non con, mentions of abuse, homicidal tendencies, unhealthy relationships, homophobia, language and mild violence.

Chapter 4

Noh-Varr followed Alvers out of the castle and into a wide open space, where various members of the guard were practicing, working with swords, guns, various mutant gifts, working their physical bodies with martial arts, stretches and weights.

“I don't know the Kree martial art, but I take it you do?”

“Yes, I was taught _leal-lat_.”

“Then warm up for fifteen minutes and we'll get started.”

Noh-Varr nodded warily, but sank down to the ground, back straight, legs crossed, hands settled loosely on his knees. He took a deep breath, and let it out, spiraling his consciousness deeper and deeper in the meditative form of _leal-lat_. He stayed under until he was aware of every part of his body.

He stood while he was still deep in his trance. _Leal-lat_ was the art of knowing oneself, of being able to use one's body to its fullest potential, even if that body had become weak with disuse. He still had his inner strength. Past all the hate and shame and fear, was his core, and at his core was the simple truth – he was Kree.

Once he captured that awareness, he embraced it, held it within him. He moved through the slow forms of _leal-lat_ , knowing that his body was not up for the fast forms yet. He did two full sets of forms, flowing from one pose to the next and finally settling down into a neutral pose yet again. Then he let that awareness back out, took back all his hatred, fear and pain and accepted them, as a part of himself. He was flawed, but not beyond repair. He was still Kree.

He opened his eyes to find Lance staring at him. “You really are Kree.”

Noh-Varr scowled. “I am. Why?”

“They made you a slave.”

He scowled. “They did.”

Lance looked thoughtful, but said nothing. “Come at me.”

Noh-Varr sprang towards him, aiming to knock him off his center of balance. Lance sidestepped, and tried to sweep his legs out from underneath him. Noh-Varr carried his motion through into a front handspring and he twisted his feed to aim a kick at Lance's jaw.

The mutant sidestepped again, this time striking the ground sharply with his foot. The earth rumbled underneath Noh-Varr, and for a split second he was distracted, and Lance landed a hard blow to his chest. Before he could follow through, Noh-Varr dodged away again.

Lance's hands came up out of his pockets and he aimed them at the ground. The whole training ground shook – the earth roared, and Noh-Varr stumbled. So that was Lance's power.

He narrowly dodged a punch to the face, and backed away from Lance. He let the Captain corner him against a wall and when he moved in for the 'killing' blow, Noh-Varr jumped up and stuck to the wall, ran straight up for ten feet before vaulting down it and landing on Lance's shoulders, Lance's neck gripped firmly between his thighs.

“You're dead.” he said, and applied just enough pressure to tell the mutant that he _could_ kill him that way.

Lance put his hands up in surrender, and Noh-Varr let him go.

“Very good.” Lance said, “We'll be sparing every day, and starting tomorrow, you will have to protect someone else and not just yourself. For now, we will work weights until you can't, then you'll run until you can't stand, and then you will cool down with a swim, and meet me here first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

xxx

Noh-Varr was exhausted. He stumbled into the room, looking longingly at the bed. He willed his bio-suit off, and it slid off his skin and into a neat pile on the floor. He toed off his boots and left them by the door, and then put his clothes on top of Tommy's dresser. His uniform was self cleaning, and so were his boots. With a thought his gauntlets retracted off his knuckles and down onto his arms into simple golden bracelets with a ruby stone in the middle.

He staggered into the bathroom, to find that the hot tub was on and full of water, bubbles and a naked Tommy. He groaned, and turned to go pass out at the foot of Tommy's bed or something.

“You don't have to leave.” Tommy said earnestly.

“I'm tired Thomas. I don't feel up to servicing you right now.”

“Servicing me? No! No you don't have to do that. I just mean that I'm filthy rich, and this tub is enormous do just relax.” Tommy made motions with his hands that Noh could only assume meant 'get in the tub.'

He was really to tired to argue. He slid into the hot water with a groan of relief as his strained and sore muscles relaxed. He stretched his legs out and placed his feet next to Tommy's leg, and then was startled when Tommy pulled his feet into his lap and started massaging him.

“You don't mind, do you?”

Tommy's hands were magical. They were swiftly and skillfully working the pain out of his feet, and he was more than a little turned on by the contact. Feet and hands were extremely sensitive erogenous zones for most Kree, and Noh-Varr was no exception.

“Uhn, Tommy, that feels really good.” He groaned.

“Yeah? You like that? I've had a couple Kree lovers before, and they all really liked my hands.” Tommy's hands actually started vibrating, pushing any residual tension right out of Noh-Varr's body and making him instantly hard.

“I can see why. Kree don't usually sleep outside their race.”

“Well I _am_ a prince.” Tommy flashed a dazzling smile.

Noh-Varr felt himself smiling back. “Humans are known to respond well to gestures of sexual affection. They were probably just trying to respect your culture.”

Tommy made a face. “You know, they _were_ all diplomats. I could never get any of the guards to sleep with me.”

“See? Kree diplomacy has always included a mix of smooth words, sexual overtures, and subtle threats of violence.”

“Yeah yeah. Shut up and come here.” Tommy said, and pulled Noh-Varr across the tub and into his lap.

Tommy's hands found his own and began caressing them, setting sparks off all along Noh-Varr's spine and settling in his groin. “Thomas...” He moaned, and sort of sank into Tommy's chest as the pleasure chased all reasonable thought away.

“Kiss me.” Tommy said softly, still working Noh-Varr's hand, his lust filled eyes, saying he knew damn well this was as much foreplay to Noh-Varr as if the Kree had reached down and fondled Tommy. Which Noh-Varr did, while his mouth moved up and captured Tommy's in a fierce, open-mouthed kiss.

“Have sex with me.” Tommy said, when they parted. Tommy was stroking tenderly between his thumb and forefinger now, and it was making Noh-Varr shudder in pleasure.

“Not because I ordered you to, but because it feels good, and you want to. You do want to, don’t' you?” Tommy sounded genuinely concerned.

“Yes. Yes I want to.” Noh-Varr said fervently, worshiping Tommy's neck with his mouth.

Tommy made a deeply pleased sound, and opened his legs, sliding Noh-Varr around so their groins ground into each other, and they both gave little kissing sounds of pleasure.

“Water makes terrible lube. Let's go to the bed, okay?”

Noh-Varr would follow Tommy's magical hands anywhere at this point, so he got out of the tub and let Tommy vibrate him dry, which was a new and potentially arousing expensive, of course, since Tommy was still caressing his hands, everything was currently an arousing experience.

They piled into Tommy's bed and Tommy was all over him, suing his speed to essentially touch Noh-Varr everywhere all at the same time, unabashedly exploring every inch of his new lover's skin.

“Aah! Tommy!” Noh-Varr cried out, as Tommy decided he'd had enough foreplay and swallowed Noh-Varr's cock.

Tommy was extremely enthusiastic about giving head. It was clearly something he enjoyed, and he was able to go fast and deep. And the things he did with his _tongue_.

“Tom-my!” He cried out, his voice shifting into the deep, guttural register that he always spoke in when he was so aroused he couldn't think straight. No human could speak that low, and most mutants and other Kree had difficulty with it. Something about his breeding allowed him to reach inhuman registers of sound. He also completely lost his grasp on English.

<Aah! Tommy that feels – aah fuck - >

He hadn't had an orgasm in a very long time. Sex was something he was normally forced into, not something he actually wanted. His employers could force him to service them, but they couldn't force him to orgasm. He wasn't like humans – most of the time, unless he was heavily drugged, it was impossible to force him into an orgasm, so he just hadn't had one.

He could feel it building now, in a big hot rush of feelings spiking down his spine and stomach, centering in his groin. Every part of him tensed and he let out a scream that split into two octaves, inhuman sounds reverberating through the room, shaking the walls as he fisted his hands on the sheets and came explosively down Tommy's throat.

Afterwords, Noh-Varr lay in bed with his head against Tommy's chest, their legs still tangled together, and Tommy's hand gently stroking Noh-Varr's back. His hands didn't hesitate over the scars on his back, but he was gentle.

His fingers felt one particularly gnarled scar across Noh-Varr's lower back, and Noh-Varr shifted uncomfortably. It didn't really hurt any more, but it still brought back bad memories.

“How did you survive this one?” Tommy asked hoarsely. “That should have killed you, if it made a scar like that.”

Noh-Varr pressed a kiss to Tommy's collarbone, and debated on answering the question or distracting Tommy with another round of sex. Finally he decided to answer him.

“It should have killed me. The crash killed the rest of my crew. I survived, but I was so badly injured I was easily captured. Since I'm a hybrid the Kree Ambassador didn't claim me as Kree, and I got shipped off to SHIELD.”

“Crash? Where did you come from?”

“My ship.”

“Why wouldn't they recognize you as Kree? What else would you be?”

Noh-Varr nipped Tommy's neck, drawing a startled moan out of the other man. “I'd really rather not talk about it.”

“Sorry.” Tommy went back to stroking his back, and Noh-Varr relaxed into him. He still wasn't used to having touch mean pleasure instead of pain.

“So today...you said I was your _hala_.”

“Ah. Yes. That.”

“That isn't just because we're sleeping together is it?”

“No. A _hala_ is more than that. More than just a physical connection, though there is sex involved. It's a...I suppose the closest word in English is a 'spiritual' connection, but it's not a religious thing. It's a deep connection between two or sometimes more Kree, though two is the most common pairing. A...soul-mate. I think Dorrek was surprised because I just met you, and it is not a word taken lightly. Kree mate for life, and a Kree will do _anything,_ regardless of personal cost, for their _hala_.”

Tommy looked alarmed. “You think you're my soul mate?!”

“No.” Noh-Varr said blandly. “I said that to protect you. Kate Bishop will not be the only one who wonders why a Kree is serving you. It is rare, but not unheard of, for a Kree to find _hala_ outside our race. It is the only thing that will make a Kree live among others, but it is worth it to keep a _hala_ safe.”

“Oh.” Tommy relaxed again, and pulled Noh-varr up so he was laying against Tommy's chest again. “Good. I mean, it's not that I don't like you but we just met. I don't think I could fall in love that fast.”

“It's not love. It's more than that.” Noh-Varr shrugged. “When you find your compatible other, you just know.”

“Mm.” Tommy said, sounding mostly asleep now. “Like you. Just...don't want...you to lie...for me.” He trailed off, his hand resting lightly on Noh-Varr's back, his head dropping until his chin was resting in Noh-Varr's hair.

Noh-Varr laid there and just enjoyed having a warm body pressed against his. Sex still brought a tangle of un-Kree like emotions with it – fear, and a deep, burning anger, but he trusted Tommy. He was safe and warm and comfortable, and his smell was incredibly soothing.

If Kree had an anathema, it would be lying about _hala_. Noh-Varr hadn't hesitated, because he didn't want to hear that human slander his Thomas. For that matter, he'd trusted Tommy almost from the moment he'd smelled him, unlike all his previous masters. It had been mere days, and he knew he wouldn't hesitate to give his life for Tommy's. Originally, claiming Tommy as his _hala_ had been a lie, but he was starting to suspect it was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I know I've been good and updated this with two new chapters pretty recently. I actually have a plot now, and I know where this story is going; except it's *really* depressing and horrible, and so I'm sort of sitting back and hoping that I'll think of a less horrible plot. If I can't think of anything better in a couple weeks, I'll try to work with what I've got. I'm not abandoning this fic, since it's my most popular by far. :3 I'm just having a wee bit of writer's block.

**Author's Note:**

> Using a House of M AU based on forum posts, blogs, other people's works that I liked. The Marvel Universe is a convoluted, treacherous place. If you thing something is grossly out of context, or have ideas on how to make this AU better, feel free to let me know!!
> 
> Comments always welcome!


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